What the hell is this?
by Spyash2
Summary: When things are looking tough for our zombie slayers, they receive help from someone, oh joy.


What the hell is this?

By Spyash2

A young man gunned his way through the horde of zombies in the tight corridor without missing a beat. His bullets met their target rather easily, even though he was firing from the hip. He paused a moment now that the zombies were dead, running a hand through his thick dark brown hair from his light blue eyes as he scanned his surroundings for anymore of the undead monstrosities. His body showed sign's of tension as he subconsciously flexed his body underneath his common yet somehow clean dark blue jumper, black pants and black shoes.

Narrowing his eyes as he heard guns going off far in the distance, the teenager tightened his grip on his upgraded RPK his left hand reach out to grip the magazine before swiftly taking it out and placing another in its place all in one motion.

Seeing that there weren't any zombies nearby, he quickly sprinted off toward the noise. Though his speed should've been greatly reduced thanks to the RPK; but thanks to the perk Stamin-up he had drunk his speed was instead increased and he can now sprint longer than usual.

He suddenly slung the RPK over his shoulder causing it to magically disappear somewhere no one will ever know, and logic be dammed he literally pulled out two standard Ray Guns out of his ass.

Things were looking good. Now that his speed was increased even further, he'll arrive just in time to save the day.

Several yards, corridors and many twists and turns away there was a massive fight of survival. On one side were four men from different countries and the other was a seemingly limitless horde of zombies.

The fight had been going on for some time. And the four men were slowly getting pushed back toward the walls. Of all of them only the American and Japanese were still fighting with everything they've got.

"Shit! Nikolai, take over I need to reload!" The American cried over the loud moaning as he retreated.

Nikolai wordlessly wiped his mouth with his sleeve, walked beside the Japanese man all badass like - and hip fired at the zombies with his AK74u.

"Edward Richtofen I need you to take over!" The Jap shouted to the German with respect in his voice. He retreated beside the American, Tank Dempsey as he reloaded his weapon.

"JA, JA don't let me stop you from reloading." Richtofen casually waved the Japanese man off with a gloved hand as he went to take his place beside the drunken Russian.

Tank looked up as his eyes narrowed in frustration at their situation. They were slowly getting pushed back and they were slowly running low on ammo. If thing's didn't change to their advantage then they'll be their freaking chew toy!

When Takeo and Richtofen shouted they needed reloading, the zombies pushed forward while they were quickly reorganizing each other. Everyone narrowed their eyes in a silent curse as the undead fiends were about two yards away from touching them.

Then just when all seemed lost, a loud sounding confident voice shouted above the moaning and demented screaming of the zombies.

"AH-HA! I have arrived just in time!"

Suddenly without warning the zombies were getting cut down by twin green rays in a matter of seconds. The zombies quickly vanished in a spray of blood, gore and limbs. Everyone stared at the brown haired, light blue eyes teen in disbelief when he continued to mow the zombies down without the need to reload.

The teen quickly put away his Ray Guns' and took out a small hand-held device and with a press of a few buttons he then threw it in front of the surviving zombie hordes. A massive black hole started to suck everything in (except for Tank and his team.) before closing again almost ten seconds later. Then he grabbed a stuffed monkey strapped to an explosive, winded it and threw it ahead to distract the zombies and took out some Matryoshka dolls and threw it at the toy monkey, and got a series of small explosions later.

In less than fifteen seconds the zombies were all but annihilated.

"Well…" The boy said as he looked at the massacre with a satisfied look. He took a dramatic pose and twirled his Ray Guns that magically appeared again in his hands. "It looks like my job here is done-"

"All right, cut the crap!" Tank shouted. The marine walked up to the teen until he stood in front of him. "What the hell do you think you're playing at, Spyash?"

The boy blinked nervously, "S-spyash? Why… I never heard of this Spyash you're talking about. Why I never heard of this person until you said his name-"

"OH STOP IT!" Tank exclaimed. He pointed at the boy accusingly. "Really, kid? Writing a self-insert fic? Did you really fall that low Marine?"

"OH IT CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" Richtofen suddenly screamed. He ran to Dempsey and suddenly embraced him in a hug. "I'm in love with you Dempsey!"

"WHAAAAAT?" everyone shouted, looking horror-struck.

"But I'm a guy!"

"I can't help it!" Richtofen confessed. "But you're zhe perfect one for me!"

"Oh no you don't!" Takeo yelled; shoulder bashing Richtofen out of the way. "I'm the one who roves him, and we'rr rive together back in Japan!"

"WHAT THE HELL?" The teen shouted, looking absolutely beside himself. "This isn't part of the story! THERE ISN'T ANY YAOI IN THIS STORY!" He screamed in horror.

Suddenly everyone turned their attention to him. "…But he's sooooo perfect." Takeo and Richtofen said at the same time.

The teen screamed in terror. "Okay, I'm leaving! I'm leaving!" And with that, he disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

Slowly everyone looked at each other.

"Nice one." Dempsey complimented.

"Thanks." Takeo and Richtofen said at the same time again.

Nikolai laughed. "I guess Spyash forgot about one thing about Fanfiction: Normally all self-inserts have slash or some form of it in them."

"Serves him right though." Dempsey sighed. "Maybe that dumbass will actually get off his lazy ass and start writing The Last Human again. He still needs to write that scene for those Black Ops guys."

Everyone else nodded in agreement.


End file.
